"Tangxue, Tangxue, are we really okay doing this?" Snow Orchid watched the Goblins sprawled, clutching their groins like wilted grass, worry clouding her voice.

Qingsheng Tangxue gently shook her head, like brushing snow off a pine. "It's fine. They sowed this and now reap it."

Truth is, after Qianya left, frustration pooled like stagnant water. With just us two, we had no clean way to drop a Goblin.

Every time a pretty girl appeared, they went feral, like dogs in heat—no, exactly that. No method could subdue them without killing.

That annoyance simmered like a kettle, until anger snapped. Qingsheng Tangxue drove a kick straight into a Goblin's lower half.

From then on, their nightmare began. What? Goblins? Taste my magic—right at your rooster!

Whoosh—ice spikes flashed like winter thorns. Each Goblin hit folded with both hands over his crotch, rolling like fish on hot sand.

Binding them after that was easy, like tying reeds in a cold marsh. Not much fight left.

"Hmm-hmm, mm~. This is still the fastest way to deal with Goblins!" Her hum skipped like a pebble on a lake.

"But they look worse than dead, Tangxue." Snow Orchid's pity hung like a thin mist.

Of course they do. In my last life, I was a guy. I never broke an egg, but the thought alone wrings cold sweat like rain.

That doesn't mean I'll pity them. Remembering what they did to those women, a fire rose. I wanted to add a few more kicks.

Goblins in this world are both pitiful and detestable, like weeds between stones. Their minds sit below people, above beasts.

They can't even solve childbirth within their own kind. To reproduce, they snatch females of other species, like wolves raiding a fold.

No thinking race likes them. And they have a foul trait: the higher the partner's rank, the stronger the child—and it's always a Goblin.

Some say Goblins were once a human nation. They angered the gods, and were cast down into a half-beast race, like leaves stripped by frost.

Others say they came from another plane, same as a Vampire. That one's wrong, clear as noon.

Goblins have been around longer than your grandpa's grandpa. They're cockroach-tough—kill a field, and another sprouts from the ditch.

You can only cull their numbers, like burning stubble after harvest. Eradication? That's a dream.

This nasty breed carved scars into generations of adventurers. Veterans scoff at them, like stepping over puddles after rain.

But those still growing get ground down, life and death tug-of-war, like with Ling Yehan.

He once took a lone Goblin job in secret and nearly died, like a candle guttering in wind. His goodwill for Goblins hit rock bottom.

Anger someone that free-spirited? He'll sail back to the ocean to pick fights with foes ten times stronger. Imagine how that ends.

He hasn't reached the point of hunting Goblins all day. But he loves cleanup requests, taking out trash for newbies, like sweeping fallen leaves.

Even now, Qingsheng Tangxue hates Goblins. No—she hates those green skins even more.

Their stare crawls over you like snail slime. It feels like being peeped at through dirty glass. It makes my skin crawl.

Anyway, I hate Goblins!

"Tangxue… Tangxue, th-th-there's a Goblin under your skirt…" Snow Orchid's voice shook from behind, like a chime in a gale.

"Lan'er… what did you say?" My face went rigid, like ice glazing a pond. My body began to tremble.

"I-I-I…"

In a blink, killing cold swept the whole gorge, like night frost washing the stones. It faded just as fast.

"What the—what is that?" Xuewei, perched on the ridge, bit out the words like cracking ice. "That mana surge is peak Tier Nine, at least!"

"Is there something in that gorge? No. They're in danger. I have to go!" Light flared like dawn off snow, and Xuewei vanished.